


Knocking on Death's Door

by DracoKissMyCass



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, retake on Balance Arc, spoilers TAZ Balance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-09-04 23:00:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16798753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoKissMyCass/pseuds/DracoKissMyCass
Summary: Throughout his life, Taako has met with Death. Time and time again Death came for him and Fate protected him. Centuries later, the Grim Reaper runs into an elf, a dwarf, and a human with unusually high death counts.Or,Taako knocks on Death's Door, goes on an adventure, and makes the literal Grim Reaper fall head-over-heels in love with him.And that's just part of the story.





	1. A Series of Fated Meetings (Or, Taako knocks on Death's door... Death answers)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for NaNo 2018. (or at least, the first 50,500 words were. After that... who really knows)  
> Parts are taken from canon with a lot of artistic liberties added visa vise how DnD and the TAZ universe works.  
> I always liked the idea of Kravitz and Taako meeting before Balance started, like, say... in Taako's original Planar system. I also really like scheming goddesses. And that's how we got here.  
> Please enjoy! And if you like it and want more TAZ, let me know.

The first time Kravitz met him it was too early in his life for him to remember it. Kravitz looked down at the pair of babies laying sprawled in the rubble, smoke spiraling into the air. The one on the left was oddly quiet, starring up at Kravitz with wide, unblinking eyes. The one on the right, the one he had come for, whined softly, his little fists waving in the air as blood trickled out of the wound in his chest.

The wound was small, but on someone so little it was enough to end his life before it had even begun. Kravitz sighed softly as he materialized his scythe into his hand, looking down at the little child. “Taako.” He murmured quietly, checking his book of death just to be sure. There was no mistaking it, this was the one he had come for.

Leaning down, Kravits reached out his fingers, a word of magic on his lips that would lull the little one to sleep before he took its soul to its eternal rest. Before his cold fingers could touch the child’s skin, however, an array of golden, glowing threads erupted around the baby, protecting it from Kravitz’s very touch. He frowned and straightened up, feeling a presence behind him

Carefully, Kravitz turned around, his gaze falling on a small sparrow bathed in golden light. An emissary of Istus, then. The goddess of Fate itself, seemed fair enough. He nodded to the bird and it dipped its head in return as he retracted his hand. Kravitz looked back at the set of babies, twins if he wasn’t mistaken, and studied the injured one closely.

“Why does he get to escape Death?” he wondered quietly, skeletal fingers drifting up over his chest and outlining the scars that represented the end of his mortal life, persistent even in this conjured form.

“The potential to save the universe and every planar system in it.” A female voice responded behind him, making Kravitz jerk and spin around again in surprise.

“Lady Istus.” Kravitz murmured in reverence, dropping to a knee and bowing his head in deference to his boss’s… wife? Lover? Something of that nature.

Istus laughed, the sound like the tinkling of the wind through a sunlit forest. “Rise, Kravitz McAllister, Reaper for the Raven Queen.”

Kravitz quickly scrambled to his feet, brushing nonexistent dust off of his reaper’s robes. He watched as Istus, resplendent in all-white, her platinum hair cascading in braids down her back, turned her reflective gaze to the baby still crying in the rubble.

“Hush, Taako.” The goddess murmured softly, kneeling down and reaching a hand out to brush along the baby’s skin. “It is not your time.” Before Kravitz’s very eyes the wound on Taako’s chest shrank and heeled, the baby’s cries dying down until he was cooing happily. Istus turned to Kravitz, plucking a thread of yarn from nonexistence and starting to knit it into the neverending scarf of time. “He is destined for greatness, Kravitz, as is she.” She nodded to the other baby. “Although…” she trailed off softly, her eyes shining until they became reflective mirrors. “I’m afraid he is destined for many more… meetings with the Grim Reaper than she is.” The glow in her eyes receded until she was looking at Kravitz again.

Kravitz nodded in understanding. “Thank you, Lady Istus. Um…” he shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t deal with the Lady of Fate often, if ever, but he knew the standard procedure. “Would you like to relay a message to the Raven Queen, or will you be dropping by the Astral plane sometime soon?” Kravitz knew that “soon” was relative, what with how time worked differently in every plane of existence, but he also knew what he was supposed to ask.

Istus smiled softly at the Reaper and nodded. “You can tell my wife I’ll return to her soon. Once I find these two a… safer location.”

Nodding, Kravitz watched as the goddess gathered the two babies in her arms and disappeared with a flash of light. Sighing, Kravitz opened his book to find Taako’s name had disappeared from the page. He materialized his scythe and split a rift in the material of space and time. He had more souls to ferry into the Astral plane and the night was still young.

* * *

Twenty mortal years later Kravitz looked into his book to see the name “Taako” emblazoned in inky black against the starch white of the page. He closed his eyes, letting his soul tug him to the location of the slowly dying soul he was looking for. He tore a rift in the air and stepped through to a sandy beach.

Lying face down in the water was the form of a little kid. Kravitz noted the pointed ears of an elf poking out from the halo of white blonde hair swirling around his head. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Kravitz turned to see the form of an elven man quickly walking out of sight. He contemplated following the man, in case he had a hand in the boy’s almost death, but decided against it. His job was to ferry the souls of those who had passed to the sea in the Astral Plane, not figure out how their passing came upon them, no matter how curious he was.

He turned back to the job at hand, wading into the water until he was next to the boy. Scythe in hand, he tried to touch the young elf but once again was met with a web of golden thread, though Kravitz could have sworn there were less strands this time around. Sighing, Kravitz vanished his scythe back into nothingness and looked around for any sign of an emissary sent from Istus to save this boy from the imminent death that would surely take him if no one intervened.

After a few minutes with only the quiet lapping of waves for company, Kravitz shook his head. He was Death, he shouldn’t be the one to have to do this. Carefully, he pressed forward, reaching toward the boy even when the golden threads manifested around his body. Once he touched them, a tingling feeling shot up his arm, but to his relief he was able to get a hand wrapped in the elf’s shirt and haul him out of the water. He pulled him to land and laid him down on his back.

Channeling some of the magic he maintained thanks to being an emissary of the Raven Queen, Kravitz hummed a melody softly until the elf had regained his hit points (unsurprisingly, not many). His eyelids started to flutter as he regained consciousness and he rolled over, hacking up water.

Before the elf could catch sight of him, Kravitz scrambled to his feet and out of his line of sight. He ripped a seam in midair and dashed through, hopefully before Taako took notice of him. The last thing he needed was to scare the poor soul to death.

* * *

It was nearly thirty years later when the name “Taako” once again appeared in Kravitz’s book. At this point Kravitz had risen in the ranks of the Reapers, taking on more Necromancers and escaped souls to bring back to the Eternal Stockade and fewer souls to shepherd between the places and into the sea. If things continued going well, Kravitz was almost certain he would rise to the position of Grim Reaper; the Raven Queen’s most trusted reaper and champion Emissary, in at least the next century.

Once again Kravitz opened a rift, stepping out into a dark, dank alleyway. By this time Kravitz knew what he would find; the elf dying but unable to be reaped due to the threads of Fate protecting his soul. What he did not expect was to find Taako beaten, broken, and bloody with a wicked looking dagger poking clean through his side. He didn’t expect the elf to be conscious, let alone lucid and staring straight at him.

A slow, but mixed with pain, smile spread across Taako’s lips. “Hey, thug. Don’t suppose you’re my guardian angel here to heal me up and let me go on my way.”

Kravitz, startled by the question and unused to dealing with mortals who weren’t begging him to spare their soul, fumbled with his words for a few moments before settling on, “Ummm… not exactly, no.”

“Mmm, didn’t think so.” Taako laughed weakly, which turned into a hacking cough that ended with blood dripping down his chin. “Don’t think angels normally dress so spooky-like, though you’re pretty enough to be one. Hell fire’s a nice touch.”

Kravitz blinked in surprise before realizing that yes, he was in his skeletal form, complete with eye sockets alight with hell fire. He coughed in embarrassment and quickly conjured some skin onto his bones.

A low, rattling whistle greeted his new face and Kravitz looked down to see Taako smiling crookedly at him. The elf was getting paler and Kravitz knew he’d have to do something soon if he was going to save him again. “Now that’s just unfair, bubelah. Although if I’d known that face was waiting for me when I kicked it I would have died way earlier.”

Kravitz rolled his eyes, almost tempted to tell the elf that actually he _had_ tried to die earlier, but Fate intervened and wouldn’t allow Kravitz to do his job. However, because it was, you know, his job, there was no possible way he could tell Taako that.

Apparently Kravitz was silent for too long because already Taako was speaking again. “And not that I don’t appreciate getting to stare at that handsome face of yours while I bleed all over one of my favorite shirts, but… I think I’m dying. So unless you’re going to be doing something about that…” he trailed off, looking expectantly at Kravitz.

Sighing, Kravitz once again took up his scythe, missing the terrified expression that crossed the elf’s face as his eyes caught the gleaming blade. “Sorry, Taako.” He murmured before he hummed a lulling tune. Within moments Taako was asleep, his chest rising and falling with his shallow breaths.

From behind Kravitz came light footsteps and he glanced into the alley. A small girl stepped out of the shadows, smiling shyly at Kravitz. “Are you Mr. Kravitz, sir?” the girl asked, nodding her head in respect to the Reaper.

Kravitz nodded, holding out a hand which the girl took and lightly shook. “Yes, dear. Did the Lady Istus send you?” he asked, waiting for a confirming nod before he continued. “His name is Taako.” He explained, gesturing behind him. “He’s dying and he’s in my book, but… I can’t take him. Can you… can you help him?”

The girl laughed quietly, kneeling down next to Taako and gently running a hand over his wounds. “Lady Istus sent me, so I must be able to.” She answered. “You’re an Emissary of Death, Kravitz. Some would even say you’re Death itself…. This below your paygrade?”

Kravitz chuckled, leaning against his scythe as he watched the girl work, slowly patching the elf up until his breathing became regular and color filled in his cheeks. “Well…as an Emissary of Death I do have the privilege of certain… powers, and healing is not outside my skillset, however being touched this deeply by death would forever change him.” He chuckled again, showing her the golden threads that wrapped around Taako, fewer still since the last time Kravitz saw them. Lady Fate’s protection must be waning with time until the elf reached the moment of his purpose. “I don’t believe Lady Istus wants that.”

“No, she does not.” The girl agreed as she straightened, holding the knife that had once been embedded in Taako’s side. “The elf will live, as Lady Fate requires.”

“Thank you.” Kravitz nodded, taking out his book and watching as Taako’s name faded from the page. He nodded in satisfaction, letting the book fall from his fingers back into nothingness. When he looked back up the girl was gone and Taako was sleeping soundly against the alley wall. As he looked at the elf for a few moments Kravitz felt a tug at the back of his head – a summons from his goddess.

With the prospect of a new job in the back of his mind, Kravitz slashed his scythe through reality and stepped through the rift back into the Astral Plane.

* * *

It was only a year later that Taako’s name once again graced the pages of Kravitz’s book. Kravitz was completing paperwork in his study in the Astral Plane when it happened. His book, resting in its stand on his desk, glowed with the addition of a name, flipping open on its own accord and running through the pages until it reached the newest entry.

Kravitz frowned, lowering his quill to take up the book. Taako again? No, that couldn’t be… He flipped open the pocket watch that hung by his waist, enchanted to also display the year, month, and day as well as the time in the Material Plane.

If Kravitz’s memory and calculations were correct, that would mean Taako was already on the brink of death again after only… thirteen months. What kind of life does this elf lead that causes him to meet with the icy hand of death so often?

Kravitz knew that it was imperative for a Reaper to attend to a soul the moment its name appears in their book; wait too long to collect a soul and lead it into the Astral Plane and the soul could wander off and get lost in the Material Plane. This time, however, Kravitz took a moment to finish up the document he was working on, knowing he wouldn’t be taking the elf’s soul today.

When Kravitz stepped through the rift he was mildly surprised to find himself in a small, dimly lit bathroom. The room was filled with billowing steam, a light flickering overhead, making it hard for Kravitz to see through it to the bathtub where he could sense the life trickling out of Taako. With a swipe of his scythe Kravitz cleared the air and gaped in horror at the sight that met him.

As a Reaper for the Raven Queen Kravitz had seen lots of gruesome deaths. He’d seen cart accidents, murders, and dismemberments. As a bounty hunter he’d seen sacrificial rituals, some even of small children when Kravitz had been too slow to the scene to stop the Necromancers in time. But out of all of those… out of everything Kravitz had seen in his line of work… suicides were the worst.

Taako was laying stretched out in the tub, blonde hair spilling around his head and into the water. Kravitz could see the blood, smell it even, as it trickled out of the elf and into the water. Taako had been careful, though, Kravitz could tell. Enough so his HP would be low enough for Death to hover overhead, but not enough for it to tip into the negatives. Not enough for him to die outright.

“So you weren’t a dream.” Taako murmured softly, giving Kravitz his trademark lazy, crooked smile. “Really hoped you weren’t, bubelah. If you had then Lup woulda had my ass.”

“You mean you would have died.” Kravitz deadpanned, looking unimpressed at the elf. “What was this for, Taako?” he asked with a weary sigh, gesturing around them. “Why do that to yourself?”

Taako lifted a hand from the water, blood trickling down his arm as he waved it lazily at Kravitz. “I’d love to explain that, thug, but I am kind of… you know, dying here. Mind patching me up?” he squinted at Kravitz, eyeing the scythe. “You can do that… right?”

Slowly Kravitz nodded, banishing his scythe with a wave of one skeletal hand. “You, I… I can do that. But a Reaper’s magic, it’s not… it’s not really meant for mortals. I’ve, um…” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ve healed you a couple times so far, uh, just surface stuff, nothing too deep. I won’t be able to heal you completely, but I should be able to help enough that you won’t be in any imminent danger of dying.”

“Mmm, brilliant, bubelah.” Taako smiled lazily at him again. “Lay that sweet, sweet healing magic on me, homie.”

Kravitz smiled a bit, humming a few notes and infusing his goddess-gifted magic into them. Taako’s eyes fluttered closed in bliss as his HP ticked back up a couple points, the world around him sharpening back into focus. He hadn’t even noticed the world had become fuzzy around the edges. “Man, thug, that’s some pretty music.” Taako murmured once Kravitz stopped, opening his eyes to look at the Reaper.

If Kravitz had had any blood rushing through his veins he would have been blushing furiously and for once he was glad he was dead. What was with this elf? It was as though being in the presence of the literal embodiment of Death wasn’t even frightening him a bit. He cleared his throat and leaned against the sink, trying not to look at the water where the bubbles from Taako’s bath had dissipated, although with the way Taako was lounging and arching his back, Kravitz suspected that maybe Taako wanted him to look. “So… an explanation?”

Taako hummed, looking Kravitz over before he sunk deeper into the water and closed his eyes. “Yeah. So… I remember nearly dying in an alleyway; hit on the wrong guy at the bar. Thought I was done for – I’m just an idiot Wizard, not much AC – and then… then I saw you. You were all skeletony, which I total dig, bone-man, but then you put on that handsome face you have on now, which I dig even more, by the way. Then somehow I fell asleep, not quite sure how that happened, to be honest, and when I woke up you were nowhere to be found and I was somehow healed and most definitely not dead.” He paused, opening his eyes. “I guess… I guess all this was to see if you were real.”

“Pretty far lengths to go just to see if a skeleton man was real.” Kravitz pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. “I wasn’t expecting your name to appear in my book for at least another ten mortal years. I was hoping more like twenty.”

“Sorry to disappoint, bubelah.” Taako chuckled softly, swirling the shimmering water with his fingers. A murmured word later and the water turned a light lavender, smelling of lilacs, and bubbles bloomed out of the surface. “Lup’ll kill me for real when she finds out about this.” He admitted. “But I think knowing that handsome face is real was worth it.”

Kravitz snorted, shaking his head at the elf’s idiocy. Only a complete dimwit would think getting to see _him_ was worth almost dying. “Well I’d really appreciate it, Taako, if your name doesn’t appear in my book for at least another century. That would really help me out.”

“Can do, homie. Or at least I’ll try.” Taako nodded with a grin before his forehead furrowed and the smile morphed into a confused frown. “What’s up with that, by the way?” he asked. “Shouldn’t the Grim Reaper, or whatever you are, be collecting souls, not saving people from death?”

Kravitz shifted uncomfortably on his perch, skin flickering away to reveal bone before reappearing. “Well yes, that _is_ my job. You’re a, um… you’re a special case.”

Taako arched an eyebrow at Kravitz, studying him curiously as he waited for the Reaper to continue. When Kravitz didn’t see fit to explain more the elf sighed, rolling over in the tub so he could rest his arms over the bathtub ledge and lower his head down on them, peering at Kravitz through his eyelashes. “And that special case is…?” he trailed off, wiggling his fingers at Kravitz. “I mean, I know my face is a treasure, but even I don’t think it’s enough to keep me from Death itself.”

“Well, I, uh…” Kravitz stuttered, looking flustered. His skin flickered as he flexed his fingers, gripping his scythe like a lifeline. “Your… your, uh, your face _is_ very nice. Taako. Uh, I mean…” his skin disappeared completely, hellfire once again burning in his eye sockets in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” He murmured, letting go of his scythe so he could reach forward and tap Taako’s forehead. The threads of Fate flashed around Taako for a moment, thinner than Kravitz had seen them thus far, and then the elf was sleeping soundly, hair fluttering in front of his face with every huffed breath.

Kravitz stood, watching the elf for a few long minutes, studying every feature and committing them to memory. As he stepped through the rift into the Astral Plane, Kravitz had the odd feeling that he wouldn’t be seeing Taako again for a very long time. ****


	2. The Hunger (Or, a devouring and a rebirth)

Decades later found Kravitz in the midst of a battle, swinging his scythe with ease, as if dancing, as he brought down one Necromancer after another. Once only a pile of bodies lay at his feet, Kravitz took a book from nothingness, flipping it open to cross out the names of his newly completed bounties.

From the last time Taako’s name had appeared in his book, Kravitz had switched out his old book for this one. The tomb of the Grim Reaper. No longer did Kravitz ferry souls from the Material Plane into the sea of souls and their eternal rest. Now Kravitz was the Raven Queens sword – her right hand – tracking down and taking bounties back to be locked in the Eternal Stockade. He was prison warden, executioner, and judge. Above all, Kravitz was the Raven Queen’s favorite, her most favored Reaper and Emissary.

Kravitz wasn’t entirely sure why the Raven Queen had decided that he had earned the title of Grim Reaper, and thus her highest honor and favor. He liked to think it was his strong work ethic and skill on the battlefield, but even he had to admit that he had messed up a few times trying to get to a bounty. He wasn’t perfect. His Queen had once told him that he had a most fascinating soul. “Touched by Istus.” She had said, although Kravitz had no idea what she meant by that. After all, he was dead, and Istus’s domain was the Material, and mortal, plane. Her tapestry could not affect the Astral place, except to send souls there once their threads had been cut.

Regardless, somehow Kravitz had been fortunate enough to become a bounty hunter. He made a rift, stepping through into his office located in the heart of the Eternal Stockade. He sighed, releasing his cloak into smoke until it reformed on the coat hook next to the door, and flopped down into his plush armchair with a low groan of exhaustion. Although he was only a soul and his physical form was a mere construct, a harnessing of energy into a material conjuring, so he technically shouldn’t be able to _feel_ exhaustion, something about hunting necromancer cults just wore him out.

He let go of his scythe, letting it drift over to the wall next to his cloak and leaned back into the pillows, closing his eyes. Within moments he had drifted off, form losing its edges until he became a floating sphere of light.

Kravitz was awoken from his drifting state by the panicked tug of a summons from his Queen. Within moments his form coalesced, skeletal and terrifying, his scythe appearing in one hand. The moment his bones touched its staff the room around him _shifted_.

There was the sound of bird wings flapping overhead and Kravitz looked up to see his goddess sitting upon her throne. She was tall and dark, face hidden behind a raven’s mask, cloaked in feathers that dripped with smoke as black as the deepest night. As Kravitz looked at her, her form stretched and shifted and Kravitz quickly looked down. Though a Reaper could look upon their Queen, unlike most mortals, Kravitz preferred not to look too long. Regarding his Queen in her true form for too long made his soul ache deep in his core.

“My Lady.” Kravitz murmured, dropping to his knee and bowing his head in reverence to the goddess who had granted his eternal life.

“Rise, Kravitz. We have not the time for formalities.” The Raven Queen said, her voice weaving and echoing throughout the chamber they were in. “A calamity has befallen us and we must act quickly if we wish to save this plane.”

“My Queen?” Kravitz asked in confusion as the Raven Queen stood up from her throne and stepped down from the dais. From her feathered robes a scythe emerged, its head in the shape of a Raven’s skull, its beak a deadly, shining silver blade. It rose from the depths of darkness of the folds of her cloak, extending up far above Kravitz’s head.

“Something is coming, Kravitz.” The Raven Queen said, dark smoke swirling about her form. “It has already reached the edge of this Planar system. The Reapers who were there are just… gone. Consumed by this… thing.”

Kravitz frowned, rising to his feet and twirling his scythe in preparation for whatever was coming. He would stay with his Queen, fight by her side until the very end. “What can we do?” If this _thing_ could consume Reapers, the agents of Death itself, he didn’t know what they could possibly do against it.

“Fate has a plan.” Was all the goddess said cryptically in reply. Kravitz was about to ask more when from above them a column of thick, opal smoke thundered from the ceiling and struck into the ground between them. Green, red, and yellow lights threaded through the column and tendrils extended out from it. Before Kravitz new it he was enveloped by dark smoke. It smothered him, filling his senses and dimming the light within his soul, crushing it in a vice grip.

As Kravitz descended into darkness, drowning in inky blackness, a brilliant white light filled the space around him and the sound of a blade slicing through the air filled his ears. Kravitz fell.

* * *

It took years for the Astral Plane to reform and solidify, split from its original planar system by the scythe of a goddess and latched onto a new system that had lacked an Astral Plane. Slowly, with the help of its patron goddess, the hand of Fate, and a lone remaining Reaper, the Astral Plane knitted itself back together, molding and melding itself into the system until it was as if it had always been there.

Things were peaceful in this new planar system. There were less Necromancers, fewer souls to lock in the stockade. Over the years the Raven Queen was able to recruit new souls into her retinue, taking on more Emissaries to help shepherd souls from the Material Plane into the sea of the dead. Kravitz remained the Grim Reaper, keeping the Queen’s favor though the number of bounties to be taken dwindled.

Then, a century after their original Plane had been consumed, seven lights fell from the stars and into the Material plane. The gods and goddesses took note of this event, determined it to be of no consequence, and turned back to their dealings in the Celestial Plane. It took a few months, but within the first year that the relics of the Light of Creation fell to earth war broke out, ravaging the planet.

From the Astral Plane Kravitz watched as battles raged. Some ended in triumph for one side or the other, others in destruction to both armies, and some ended in a flash of burning hot flame, leaving only a crater of black glass in its wake. With these wars came bigger problems for Kravitz and those in the Astral Plane. From the midst of so much death and destruction Necromancers emerged. Some wanted only to bring back their loved ones, lost to the vicious wars that ravaged the land. Others wanted to create armies; undead soldiers with which they could take the relics for themselves. Kravitz was working overtime trying to keep the balance of life and death in check. He was so busy, in fact, that he didn’t notice the appearance of seven names in his book until they had already disappeared again.

* * *

A year after the relics fell and war broke out across Faerun, everything just… stopped. It was as though everyone, at the very same moment, just forgot that the relics existed. But in the Astral Plane the Grim Reaper did not forget… and he couldn’t forget the curious elf who he lost to the Plane he once called home.

* * *

Eight years later Kravitz received another call from his goddess. He opened a rift into the Raven Queen’s throne room and stepped out to find his goddess pouring over a large tomb. She looked up as Kravitz bowed before her, marking her place with a clawed finger and gesturing Kravitz closer.

“I have a task for you, Kravitz.” She said, indicating the page of the book she had been studying. Kravitz stepped forward, looking at a page filled with names. At the top was the name of a location: Glamour Springs.

“Did… did all these people die?” Kravitz asked in surprise. They hadn’t seen a death count like this in… eight years.

The Raven Queen nodded, tapping the page with a claw. “Yes. And violently. I would send another Reaper, but… I have a feeling these souls will need more… care than most. Some may not even know they are dead.”

“Of course, my Queen.” Kravitz nodded. “Whatever you need, I will serve your will.”

“Thank you, Kravitz.” If her beak could smile, she would be smiling softly down at her favorite Emissary. She waved a hand and the book floated up and into Kravitz’s arms, indicating he could go. With another short bow, Kravitz took the book, sliced a rift into space, and stepped through.

As the rift closed behind Kravitz a flash of light illuminated the Raven Queen’s chambers. Istus, the Lady of Fate, stepped up behind her wife, the shining silver of her being in stark contrast to the Raven Queen’s all-consuming darkness. She looked at the space in midair that Kravitz had stepped through and tilter her head to the side. “He’s stepping onto the right path, isn’t he?”

“He just needed a slight nudge.” The Raven Queen answered with a nod, arm slipping out of her cloak to wrap lightly around her wife’s waist. “I provided.”

“You mean you interfered.” Istus scolded lightly, frowning down at her knitting. Eight feet down, the scarf had diverged, one branch ending in burnt looking, ragged threads as the other continued on. “Let’s just hope the path is correct. He has an elf to meet, after all. And maybe together they can save the Universe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Glamour Springs (Or, a meeting he never expected)


	3. Glamour Springs (Or, a meeting he never expected)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kravitz goes to investigate Glamour Springs and sees an unexpected, familiar face. Taako meets with Death once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm real sorry but I definitely skipped over this chapter. Thank you to the lovely user who pointed my mistake! Apparently I'm real bad at correctly numbering chapters in my master doc.  
> Hopefully this clears up any and all confusion.   
> Enjoy!

When Kravitz stepped out of the rift it was into a sea of death. The ground around him was scattered with bodies, their skin grey and bloated. As Kravitz was walking through the bodies he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to a sight he never thought he’d see again.

There, sitting on the stage, staring at his hands in horror, was Taako. Although he looked and felt like the same elf Kravitz had met in his home Plane, something was off about Taako. His soul looked odd, less whole. Almost like a piece of him was missing. But how could he have ended up here, in this planar system, so very far from home?

Kravitz distinctly remember when he had awoken in the new Planar System, reconstructed by his goddess. As the Astral Plane around him flickered in and out of nonexistence as it tried to repair itself and merge with this new world, Kravitz’s mind went back to the beautiful elf who stared Death in the face and called it handsome.

When the Hunger, as the Raven Queen and Istus had taken to calling it since it consumed all in its path, had taken their Planer System, Kravitz hadn’t spared a thought to Taako. The elf was just…gone. Disappeared into nonexistence like so many others. Even Fate couldn’t save him this time.

Yet here Taako was. Alive and whole, looking the same as Kravitz remembered him, despite the over 100 years that had since passed. He was here, in a completely different Planar System. He was here and… unable to see or hear him, Kravitz realized as he approached the elf and Taako neither looked up nor made any reaction to indicate he knew Death was standing right in front of him.

Taako just continued to stare down at his hands, muttering something Kravitz just couldn’t make out. His eyes were wide, face pale, and Kravitz couldn’t help but wonder what had brought the elf to this moment, surrounded by dead bodies and staring at his hands as though _he_ had been the one to fell them.

Kravitz paused in that train of thought, the fire in his eye sockets flickering. Could he have? Could Taako have been the one to cause so much death, so much destruction? Somehow, Kravitz couldn’t bring himself to believe that, though he had met the elf only a handful of times. Kravitz had seen, had _touched_ , his soul… and it was nothing like this. The soul he knew wasn’t capable of something like _this_.

Another source of movement caught Kravitz’s attention as a male tiefling stepped out from a doorway behind Taako and walked up behind him. The tielfing, Sazed, Kravitz would later learn, placed a hand on Taako’s shoulder, trailing it down his arm as he stepped around in front of him to take his hands. Sazed was saying something to Taako, too low for Kravitz to make out the words, though he could tell Sazed’s voice was urgent and demanding. As Kravitz watched he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Sazed. He was too… calm. Unaffected by the death that surrounded the pair. Almost as though he wasn’t surprised. As though… as though he had expected it. As though he had caused it.

As that thought crossed his mind Kravitz paused in his collection of the souls of the dead and turned to look at the pair of mortals again. By this time Sazed had managed to get Taako to look at him, coaxing him to stand, though Taako’s eyes were still glazed and far away. Carefully Kravitz drew closer, making sure not to touch either of the Mortals. As long as he didn’t interact with either of them he could remain invisible to their mortal eyes. And Kravitz had a feeling now would not be the time to reveal himself to Taako and he would not want Sazed to see him.

“Come on, Taako!” Kravitz heard Sazed hiss, tugging Taako forward a couple stumbling steps. At the motion, a portion of Taako’s left sleeve rose up, revealing thin, white scars that dragged along his forearm down to his wrist. Scars from the last time Kravitz had come into contact with the elf. It was definitely was the Taako from his Planar System, then. Kravitz couldn’t deny that, though the revelation brought forth more questions than it answered.

“We need to go, Taako.” Sazed was telling Taako sternly as Kravitz turned away from his inner thoughts and refocused on the scene before him. “The authorities are going to come soon. We can’t let them find us here. Not after what _you_ did!”

Taako jerked a bit at that, like a startled animal, and that look of abject horror came into his eyes again. Kravitz watched as Sazed continued to pull Taako out of what Kravitz finally recognized as a television studio, complete with an onstage kitchen. The whole time he was whispering and hissing at Taako, reminding him that _he_ had poisoned all these people, that it was _him_ who made the mistake. That he was so _lucky_ Sazed was going to stay with him on the run instead of leaving him here for the authorities to find so he could rot in jail for all eternity.

Once the pair of mortals was gone, Kravitz continued with his work of taking the souls of the fallen. When he was done and every soul was accounted for, safely severed from the Material Plane, and ferried on to the sea of souls, Kravitz took a few moments to explore the space, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him.

He had figured out long before Sazed had mentioned it that all of these people were poisoned. He knew the signs. It wasn’t until he had wandered to the back rooms, to a pair of doors marked “Taako” and “Sazed”, respectively, that he found the source. In Sazed’s room, sitting innocently on a makeup counter, was a small, unmarked, glass phial. It only took a brush of Kravitz’s skeletal fingers for him to feel the remnants of the poison that it had once held. Poison was an agent of death, after all, and he was Death’s Emissary.

So it hadn’t been Taako. Kravitz felt his bones relax in relief at that realization. The elf had been framed by that Sazed man, whoever he was. Maybe Taako had even been the real target and the others were all just collateral damage.

Fascinating that Taako once again met with Death, even when he himself did not almost die. Strange, too, that Fate would be so unkind to one she had sworn to protect. Then again, Kravitz didn’t know what went on in the minds of gods and goddesses. He was merely a bounty hunter, his goddess’s agent to use as she will.

* * *

In her temple, just outside of the small mining town named Refuge, Istus frowned down at her knitting. There, a few rows down from where her needles currently resided, was a small hole. It was tiny, just barely noticeable within the rows of perfect, uniform stitches packed tightly together to form a beautiful tapestry of color. Yet, it existed where it should not exist.

Istus couldn’t say what had caused the hole, just that it had happened sometime within the last… few months? At least she thought that was right. Time was weird when you could see every twisting thread of it spread out throughout space. She frowned as a sudden realization hit her and she mentally counted back the months since the greatest calamity this plane had seen since the great Relic Wars ceased and were lost from all memories besides those who existed outside of time and space. Glamour Springs. Three and a half months ago. The disaster that surround her to-be Emissary.

Although, thinking about it now, Istus realized that there was something wrong with the elf. Something incomplete… something incomplete enough to cause a hole in Fate’s tapestry.

Compelled by the forces that guided her knitting needles and revealed the ever entwined, never-ending threads of Fate, Istus plucked three threads of yarn from midair. As she pulled them into existence they began to lengthen and entwine, braiding themselves together into one thread of time and events. A connected fate, then. Where one went, so would the other two, forever entangled so completely as to become one, with little chance of ever untangling themselves. Maybe eventually they would unravel themselves, splitting off to thread different paths knitted together and diverging, yet still a part of the same tapestry.

Once the threads stopped appearing, hindered by some unknown and unseen force, Istus’s knitting needles started up again. She knew these threads were going somewhere, leading to something great, the most beautiful of all the tapestries Istus had ever made. She just didn’t know quite yet where they were leading to. All she could do was continue to knit as their story spun out and wait until the time came. Fate was patient, she could wait.

* * *

Across the land of the Material Plane, in a small, nondescript tavern in the town of Phandelin, three travelers met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next, Chapter 4: The Adventurers (Or, a dwarf, an idiot wizard, and a bear walk into a bar...)


	4. The Adventurers (Or, a dwarf, an idiot wizard, and a bear walk into a bar...)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tres Horny Boys finally meet; Kravitz cleans up the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI, I have never actually listened to the full Here There Be Gerblins story arc (heresy, I know). Therefore, what lies within is probably wildly inaccurate. I claim full artistic license.

Taako frowned as he tilted his hat back so he could read the small sign swaying in the wind, shuddering as the action made cold rain water slip down the back of his neck. He hated the rain. After checking again on his soaked scroll (damn, he REALLY needed an umbrella, like, now) that this was actually in fact the correct place, Taako pushed open the door to the tavern and stepped inside.

Glad to finally be out of that blasted rain, Taako shook himself off before he sauntered further into the tavern, looking around at the variety of tables and trying to find the person he was supposed to be meeting.

After scouring the room for a couple moments, he finally caught sight of a hulking figure sitting at one of the corner tables. The man looked fittingly intimidating and shady, must be him. Slipping his hand into his pocket to ensure his wand was gripped tight, Taako made his way over to the man, flashing him his most charming smile. “Hey there, thug. Name’s Taako. What’s yours?”

The man was quiet for a moment, regarding Taako somewhat wearily. Then a big smile broke over his mouth and he stood, pulling Taako into a surprising and tight hug. When the man pulled away, leaving a stunned wizard in his wake, he was still beaming as though Taako was his favorite person and he hadn’t seen him in at least 100 years. “Name’s Magnus, Taako. I take it you’re the wizard who answered the ad? No offense, but you don’t really look like a cleric.”

Taako nodded. “Yeah, I’m the wizard. Built like that I don’t even have to ask if you’re the fighter. You’re a tank, man.”

Magnus visibly preened at the compliment, fingers tapping against the axe that hung off his belt. “Got it in one. So that means we’re just waiting on the cleric then we can hit the road. The add seemed pretty straightforward. Go to a cave and defeat a monster, get paid by the town.”

“My kind of job.” Taako nodded, flopping down into a chair across from Magnus and leaning it back on the hind two legs. “Least amount of effort with a staggering amount of money for a reward. Only job I’d take.”

The other man laughed, about to say something in response when the sound of a throat being cleared came from in front of them. Taako let his chair clatter forward as both he and Magnus looked up at the newcomer. Then they both blinked and looked down instead.

“Merle Highchurch. Cleric of Pan and your third party member.” The Dwarf said gruffly. “No need to ask which of you is the fighter and which is the pretty boy wizard.”

“I prefer idiot wizard, but a compliment is a compliment, my man.” Taako shot back with a laugh as Merle joined their table and he regarded his two new companions, sizing them up. “Pan, you say? So you’re good with plants?”

Slowly Merle nodded, shifting a little in his seat as he toyed with a couple of flower buds that were braided in his beard. “I suppose you could say that, yes. I’ve always been a follower of Pan, although the clerical powers are a bit of a… recent development.”

“Recent development?” Taako asked skeptically, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back again in his chair. “That doesn’t sound too promising.” He looked over at Magnus pointing a finger at the man. “You, tank. How are you at fighting?”

Magnus blinked in surprise at being addressed in such a way by the elf. “Oh, uh… well, I did drive a horrible governor from my home town, Raven’s Roost?” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking down at the table for a moment before he took a swig of the drink in front of him. “Uh, but then the governor came back and burned the whole place down.”

Merle’s eyes widened and he leaned forward to look at Magnus more closely. “Did you… did you fight the governor?”

“Oh, uh, no.” Magnus admitted. “Well, not physically. I mean, I’m a carpenter. All I have is an axe and some armor.”

“Ohhh great!” Taako groaned, propping his feet up on the table and narrowly missing knocking over Merle’s drink with his heeled boots. “So we have a carpenter who wants to be a fighter with an axe and a nature Cleric who hasn’t been using magic for very long. You know, this job may not be as easy as I thought… maybe we should just drop it and go back to not knowing each other.”

Merle rolled his eyes, smacking Taako’s feet off the table with the side of a small battle axe. “Oh yeah? And how many spell slots do you have, Mr. Fancy Pants wizard?”

Taako huffed, taking out his wand and spinning it in his fingers lazily. “I’ll have you know I can cast Magic Missile, Highchurch. And Mage Hand is as easy as pie.” He bragged, casting a mage hand to pick up his drink and bring it to his mouth.

Magnus and Merle snorted with laughter as Taako managed to spill half of his ale on himself as his mage hand wavered and flickered for a few seconds before solidifying. “Oh yeah, you’re real good at that, magic boy.” Merle guffawed, slapping his thigh. “Real good.”

Taako wiped off his chin, frowning down at his soaked shirt. “See, told you we shouldn’t do this. Let’s just give up and go home. Taako’s good without fighting monsters.”

“Awww, come on.” Magnus said, pouting a little at the prospect of having to walk away from a future fight. “I think we can do it, you guys. And anyway, if you didn’t want to fight monsters, why are you here?” he asked, looking at Taako curiously. “I’m assuming you received the same ad I did.” He took out a folded up piece of parchment and laid it out flat on the table.

“WANTED” the piece of parchment declared at the top in bold, capital letters. “Three Adventurers in need of good fortunes. Looking for: One Fighter looking for adventure. One Cleric wanting to hone their skills. And one Culinary Wizard. Task: Defeat the beast in Wave Echo Cave and bring evidence of its death to City Hall. Interested Adventurers should meet at Turnbuckle Tavern. Reward: 3,000 gold pieces.”

Merle leaned over the table, standing on the seat of his chair to get a better look at the parchment. “Yeah, that’s the one I received, too. Seemed oddly specific, but I need the money.”

Magnus frowned as he looked at Merle for a second. “Weird, that’s exactly what I thought.” The pair looked over at Taako expectantly, waiting for him to confirm his own similar thoughts on the matter.

“The moment I saw that I knew it was my calling.” Taako shrugged, looking at his fingernails. “Not only am I a rad wizard, but I’m also the best chef you’ll ever meet outside of Neverwinter. Thereby making me a culinary wizard.” He snapped his fingers, then finger-gunned at the pair. “I fit that description to a tee.” He paused, fingers twitching a bit as they moved to play with the braid that hung slung over his right shoulder, an obvious nervous tick. “And I, uh, might have also needed the money.”

“There it is.” Magnus grinned, slamming back the rest of his drink and getting to his feet. He took out his axe and rested it against one shoulder. “Now come on, we have a monster to fight.”

* * *

Two days later, as Taako lay at the bottom of a well with two morons for companions and an orc who had tried on numerous occasions to kill them, Taako regretted ever setting foot in that tavern.

The trip had even started out well. They found the cave outright and his two (hopefully temporary) companions had been smart enough to agree with him that they shouldn’t try to fight a monster at night and that they should come back in the morning. When morning came and they actually had to enter the cave, it was to find an area that was seemingly inhabited. Or at least, used to be inhabited. Inside they found a skeletal body, bones oddly charred, but not turned to ash, robed in red and clutching onto the umbrella that Taako now held tightly in his hand.

He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to take the umbrella from its skeletal keeper, he just knew that he had to have it. He laid eyes on it and knew that it belonged to him. When he first held it, it felt… right. Like he was meant to hold it… like it _wanted_ him to.

Of course, it was very shortly after that that everything fell to shit. See, it turned out that the monster they were supposed to be vanquishing wasn’t the only thing that resided in the caverns of Wave Echo cave. First, they ran into an orc that tried very hard to kill them with a huge longbow, before Magnus miraculously managed to knock her out. Then they found this rad looking gauntlet, but before any of them had managed to pick it up, they were rudely interrupted by a tall elf with a horrendous accent, dressed in black and purples covered in spider motifs.

It turned out that the monster they were after was in fact controlled by this elf, a wizard (which was totally a rip-off of his brand, Taako thought), and he was very offended that they had invaded his cave. Taako was, in turn, very offended when the elf, Magic Brian, they learned, claimed to be the better wizard. So of course, Taako just had to cast Magic Missile at him.

The monster they were hunting then finally showed up, apparently rather infuriated that Taako had attacked its master and, supposedly, friend. To Taako’s disgust the monster turned out to be a giant spider, which honestly explained Magic Brian’s terrible fashion choice to adorn his outfit with the images of spiders, and it was also named Brian.

Fighting a man with two legs and two arms was hard enough, but fighting him and a creature with eight legs was nearly impossible. Taako nearly died having to fight both at once, but luckily they learned that Merle in fact could be a healer, even if he wasn’t a very competent one. Once Magnus joined in the fight, to Taako’s relief, he proved himself quite competent with an axe and made short work of the giant spider’s legs.

They managed to knock the spider Brian over into a conveniently located hole in the cave, which only served to make Magic Brian even angrier. It took all of their strength, plus a well-placed “Abra-ka-fuck-you” and Magic Missile from Taako, to subdue the elven wizard and send him flying into the pit they had launched Brian’s body into.

On their way out, feeling rather accomplished and having nicked Magic Brian’s staff to bring to City Hall for their reward, the trio ran into yet another roadblock. The orc, Killian they later learned, was once again conscious and attempted to take their lives. Fortunately, her attempt was thwarted by the appearance of a dwarven miner. To Taako’s great distress their adventure still wasn’t over as the dwarf took hold of the gauntlet that had so intrigued them earlier.

Almost immediately upon slipping the gauntlet onto his hand, the dwarf was consumed by a raging pillar of fire, yet seemed unaffected by the heat of the flames. Seeing this, Killian had rushed them all out of the cave as the dwarf flew, burning and cackling, into the heart of Phandalin. She had jumped down into the well, yelling at the trio to jump in after her if they wanted to live.

And that’s how Taako ended up here, at the bottom of a well with some of the biggest morons he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting. Overhead there was a great booming, roaring sound and a blast of heat rushed into the well and over the quartet. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the heat dissipated and all Taako could hear was silence.

* * *

Kravitz walked slowly through the remnant of what once was a town, now only perfect black glass. There were no bodies this time, only floating, lost souls. Their bodies had been destroyed almost instantaneously. The Reaper remembered when occurrences like this were frequent, leaving scorched craters of perfectly circular black glass littered across the land. And at the center of every one would be the relic of destruction; the gauntlet.

Kravitz had seen the gauntlet many times as he cleaned up after its abject destruction, but he could not touch it. At its center was pure light and creation, and Kravitz was neither of those. As he approached the heart of the circle of glass, though, he could see it. There it was, on the hand of what now looked like a blackened glass statue of a dwarf, but which Kravitz knew used to be a living, breathing being.

As Kravitz drew nearer he heard noise behind him and turned in time to see four people climb out of a well. He recognized one of them immediately. Taako.

The largest of the adventurers, the fighter Kravitz assumed, stepped forward, swept right passed Kravitz, and plucked the gauntlet right off the dwarf’s hand. For a moment afterward he just stood there, as if having a fierce internal battle as he looked at the gauntlet clutched tight in his hand. Then the moment passed and Kravitz watched him tuck the relic into his bag.

The orc they were with said a few words, gesturing to the second, closer moon in the sky (Kravitz knew it was fake), and all too soon the group had wandered off, leaving Phandalin, death, and Kravitz in their wake. As Taako walked away, Kravitz watched him closely, taking in the new developments of his personage.

Taako looked better than he had the last time Kravitz saw him, though it concerned him that he continued to find the elf surrounded by death. There was still a sense of incompleteness radiating off of him, but it was dimmed somewhat since the last time. Kravitz also couldn’t help but notice the umbrella that Taako had had clutched tightly in his hand as he exited the well. Kravitz could feel the arcana emanating from the umbrella and couldn’t help but wonder where Taako had found an object of such intense power.

It took Kravitz a while to collect all of the lost souls – it was an entire town destroyed in the blink of an eye, after all. Once his task was completed the Reaper looked around at the city of glass one last time before he ripped a rift through space and stepped through to the Astral Plane.

The entire time, his mind was on Taako.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Chapter 5: Memories (Or, Something Taken, Something Regained)


	5. Memories (Or, something taken, something regained)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tres Horny Boys join the B.O.B, Kravitz has some questions, and a Goddess makes a hard move.

A few hours after the town of Phandalin was wiped off the map found Taako and his two companions on the… moon? Taako looked around them as they were escorted through the quad of the moon base and to the central building. “Who knew this wasn’t a real moon?” he muttered to himself, trying to keep his voice down. 

Apparently, however, he didn’t keep his voice quite low enough as Killian turned to look at him. “The base has only been here, over Faerun, about… five years? Somehow everyone just accepted its existence. That’s actually how I got recruited. Started asking too many questions about the second, smaller moon in the sky and the Director took notice.”

“The Director?” Magnus butted in curiously, looking over at the orc.

Killian nodded, leading them into the main building, which, like all of the other structures on the moon base, was a pure, shining white. “Yes, the Director. She founded this organization, the B.O.B, for short.” She explained. “We’re actually heading to see her now so she can judge if you are worthy of joining the organization, inoculate you, and deal with that artifact we picked up."

“Wait, wait, hold up!” Taako cut in, rounding on Killian with his hands on his hips. “What do you mean ‘judge if we are worthy of joining the organization’? I’m not joining some organization! Taako was only in this job for the money! I was going to fight a monster, earn some gold, and get out of here. Nothing in the job description said anything about joining a super-secret organization with a base on a fake moon.”

“Actually…” Killian plucked the rolled-up piece of parchment from Taako’s pack and unrolled it to show Taako the bottom of the page. She tapped her finger against the miniscule type, which read ‘Adventurers who complete this task may be eligible, and required, to join a super-secret organization with a base on a fake moon’, “it did. No one ever reads the fine print.” She sighed, rolling the parchment back up and handing it back to Taako. “You signed up for this, Taako. There’s no backing out now.”

* * *

The moment Taako drank the void fish’s ichor it was as though he was struck by a blinding, clarifying light. Suddenly his mind was filled with _knowledge_. He knew about the relics and their existence. He knew about the Bureau of Balance and, vaguely, the Director. And suddenly everything that once was static rang out perfectly clear. “Holy fuck…” he breathed as he stared at his two companions who were staring at him equally dumbstruck, having also gone through some brain melting revelations.

Before they knew it, the trio was outfitted with the bracers of the B.O.B. and given the title of Reclaimers - those who went after the relics and reclaimed them from the land below before they could cause any more destruction. They learned that Killian was a Regulator, tasked with bringing rogue Bureau members back to the organization to face judgement and justice. The Dwarf they had encountered, Gundrun Rockseeker, was an ex-Reclaimer, enthralled by the power of the Gauntlet, and so the Bureau had sent Killian to stop his mad rush for power and bring him back to the base.

They watched as the relic was placed in what looked like a small, black cannonball and was consumed by a blinding light within some sort of protective chamber. They watched as the gauntlet was destroyed and the sphere came back empty. Through it all, Taako kept a death like grip on the handle of his umbrella, as though it was his only lifeline keeping him grounded.

Finally, once the relic was destroyed and the trio officially joined into the secret organization with its base on a fake moon, they got paid.

“Hell yeah!” Taako grinned, tossing a gold coin into the air and catching it again as he lay on his back on a couch in the common area of the rooms they had been shown to. “Finally got that sweet, sweet moola. Kinda sucks about the whole global conspiracy with a bunch of liches who want to destroy the world with the relics, but things could be worse.”

Merle, who was sprawled out in an armchair next to Taako huffed and looked over at the wizard. “And how, pray tell, could it be worse? What could possibly be worse than going from fighting a spider to finding out that a group of evil liches want the exact same artifacts we’ve now been tasked with finding?”

“You’re the praying man, Highchurch, not me.” Taako answered with a casual shrug. “I got nothing to answer that. But it seems like these,” he tapped his bracer, “mean that we’re stuck in this, together, for good.”

Before Merle could shoot a stinging remark back at Taako, Magnus intervened, looking at Taako curiously. “Not to pry, but you’re not a praying man, Taako? I thought I caught sight of the mark of the Raven Queen on your wrist when they put the bracer on.”

Taako shifted uncomfortably in his spot on the couch, fingers moving to rub subconsciously over the metal that sat just above the mark inked into his skin. “It’s nothing.” He said after a beat, waving Magnus off lazily. “Just something I got when drunk and stupid. Doesn’t mean anything.” The fighter frowned a bit at Taako’s answer, as though he didn’t buy it one bit, but to Taako’s relief he didn’t pry.

It was something Taako didn’t like to think about – the vague, blurry time of his past. He couldn’t recall quite exactly when he had gotten the mark forever etched into his skin, just below the silver scars that would forever remind him of his stupidity, nor could he remember what had driven him to get such a mark. All he could remember was the icy cold touch of skeletal fingers, a handsome face, and the sound of raven wings beating through the air.

* * *

Kravitz returned to the Astral Plane with the souls from a Necromantic cult set on becoming liches. It would have been just like any other bounty if not for what one of the Necromancers said before being felled by Kravitz’s scythe. Something about how all of this was “for the light. To make its seven pieces whole again.”

All too often Kravitz was finding signs of the relics’ presence throughout Faerun. Though memory of what the relics were had faded, their thrall had not, and only seemed to be growing stronger. As one of the few beings to know about the relics and their origin, Kravitz felt it was his duty to do something about it. Not to mention it would make his life easier if less cults formed trying to obtain the relics.

So, gathering his will and courage in hand, Kravitz closed his eyes and prayed to his goddess. When he opened them, he was standing within a room of the blackest night. In front of him was a table, on it a chessboard, a pot of tea, and two cups, and besides it three chairs. In one chair sat the Raven Queen, clothed in a long, flowing dress of raven feathers that shifted through a rainbow of darkened colors as she moved. In the one across from his goddess sat Fate itself. She was dressed in shining silvers, her cloak lined with pure white furs to ward against the chill in the room that neither he nor the Raven Queen could feel. And the third chair, between the two, sat empty.

“Kravitz.” The Raven Queen spoke, voice low and echoing. “Please, come sit down. We’re been expecting you.”

Kravitz nodded, walking around the table and letting his scythe vanish back into nonexistence as he sat down. “You know why I’m here, then?” he asked, glancing over at Istus. As ever, her hands were at work, knitting together threads that told Kravitz big events were at work in the Material Plane.

“You’re my Emissary, of course I know.” The Raven Queen waved off. A gesture of her taloned hand and another cup of steaming tea appeared in front of Kravitz. He nodded his head in thanks, picking up the mug and sipping at it as he waited for his goddess to continue. “You are curious about the relics. Worried about the Hunger that consumed our planar system.”

“Yes.” Kravitz nodded as the Raven Queen paused, an indication that he could speak. “Recently, as you know, I was called to the town of Phandalin to pick up an entire town’s worth of souls. They all died in a single instant, their souls wandering lost since their bodies were destroyed. The town was turned to glass. And in the center of it all was the relic of destruction. The gauntlet.” He explained, staring down into his cup.

“And you think we have a duty to stop the relics?” the Raven Queen asked softly, tilting her head as she looked at Kravitz. Her Emissary nodded and the Raven Queen tapped her claws against the table. “Our duty is to maintain the balance of life and death, Kravitz, nothing more."

“But the relics are _skewing_ that balance!” Kravitz exclaimed, hands shaking as he gripped his cup tightly. “And the people of this plane, they know nothing of the relics' power. They know nothing of that’s coming! How can we just stand by and let this happen?”

The Raven Queen frowned, leaning forward to look at Kravitz closely. If it had been any other Emissary speaking to her in such a way, she would have struck them down in an instant for their insolence. But Kravitz… Kravitz was special. Kravitz was with her so long, had stayed by her side through everything, remaining dedicated to his work in her name. That had earned him some liberties. And she hated seeing him in such turmoil, such pain such as this.

“My child…” she said softly, reaching out with one dark hand to touch Kravitz’s shoulder. The moment she made contact with him Kravitz’s form melted away until he was only a glowing ball of light, bared before his goddess. The light within Kravitz flickered in his distress as the Raven Queen cupped him in her palms and held him close. “Oh, Kravitz…” she sighed, looking down at the glowing orb. “for so long you have subdued your emotions in order to continue your work. While I would have liked for you to feel again,.. this is not how I wanted it.” She ran her fingers lightly along the soul, which flickered and crackled with electricity at her touch.

“Your knowledge of the relics… of the _Hunger_ is such a burden…” she trailed off, looking thoughtful and almost… sad. After a few moments of lightly running her hand over the sphere of light her eyes widened and she looked down at Kravitz. “So much worry, so much concern and pain… and all for that elf.” She murmured, glancing over at Istus for a moment. The goddess of Fate, however, wasn’t looking her way, intent on the knitting weaving its way in her hands. “To think, he was the one to make you feel again. But pain… I cannot abide by that. This… this will bring you pain. But it will be temporary, unlike what you feel now. It will not last.”

Her mind made up, the Raven Queen reached out and sank one taloned hand deep within Kravitz’s soul. Agony ripped through Kravitz’s whole being as a part of him was ripped away, sequestered, and locked deep within his core. Then, as suddenly as it started, the pain vanished and the Raven Queen let go.

The moment the Raven Queen’s talons no longer touched him, Kravitz’s form came back, called from the ether and reconstructed. He blinked in surprise from his place on the floor and slowly rose, looking around himself in confusion. “I… I’m sorry, my Queen. I didn’t mean to intrude.” He said quickly, bowing his head.

“No need for that, my child. You’re not intruding.” The Raven Queen said, a soft smile evident in her voice even if Kravitz could not see it. “I called you here, after all.” She indicated the seat next to her and Kravitz quickly sat down, still a bit disoriented.

“Ah, y-yes. Of course.” Kravitz nodded, seeing the cup in front of him and quickly taking a drink to steady his nerves. He frowned down at the cup. It was lukewarm. “What… what did you want to see me about, my Queen?”

“Nothing of much importance, Kravitz.” The Raven Queen answered casually. “You need not worry yourself. Just wanted to check in with my favorite Reaper.”

The admission caught Kravitz off guard and he choked a bit on his tea, artificial lungs telling him something was amiss, though he had no real need for air. If he had blood to pump through his veins in the Astral Plane, Kravitz was pretty sure he would be blushing most furiously. As it was, he ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Ah, thank you, my Queen. Things… things have been going well. I-I’ve reached the quota of Necromancers for the month and stopped two attempted breakouts from the Stockade so-“

“I did not call you here to question you about your work, Kravitz.” His goddess cut him off and Kravitz snapped his mouth shut. He was caught off guard and wasn’t quite sure what he should do, nor why his Queen had truly called him to her chambers, especially when the Lady Fate was present.

Most Reapers were not fortunate enough to have the honor of seeing the Raven Queen and Lady Fate together in the same room, constructed or otherwise. His head was pounding for some odd reason. He wondered if he had hit it on something. But that was just silly, his form was just a construct, it couldn’t feel pain. The only pain he ever felt were wounds inflicted on his soul itself. The pounding was making everything woozy and blurred, and for a moment Kravitz was afraid he might collapse back into his soul form.

Then the Raven Queen was speaking again and the pounding pain passed, leaving Kravitz even more confused than he had been before. “You have always done outstanding work, Kravitz, I have no concerns over that.” She said, taking a sip of her tea. “I am asking how you are _doing_ , Kravitz. Is your work satisfactory? Is your office all you desire? Do you wish for better chambers? Need more Raven sentries in the Stockade? Anything you need or desire, Kravitz, I will gladly provide. You know that.”

Kravitz slowly nodded, looking at his goddess in confusion. Of course he knew his goddess would grant anything he needed, but he had never expected her to ask how he was _doing_ with such _concern_. In his life after death Kravitz had wanted for nothing except to serve his goddess to the best of his abilities, but he could admit now, after centuries of service he was a bit… lonely.

The thought struck Kravitz like a blow to the chest. He was lonely. In his undeath he hardly interacted with people, except to collect their souls or take them for eternal imprisonment in the stockade. Even now that the Raven Queen had other Emissaries, Kravitz couldn’t really say he had any friends. There were one or two other Reapers he would say hello to on occasion, talk about their latest bounties, then head their separate ways, but that was about it. After all, he was the Grim Reaper. The Raven Queen’s most trusted Emissary. The very first. He was unapproachable. For the first time, though, Kravitz felt something ache deep in the heart of his soul, an emptiness that needed to be filled. “I… I’m lonely.” Kravitz finally whispered, looking down at his hands before looking back up at his goddess, confusion evident in his eyes. “I’m lonely?”

The Raven Queen sighed softly at that and Kravitz, still stuck in his recent personal revelation, missed the pointed look Istus shared with her, followed by the flash of regret that crossed her eyes. “I am not surprised, my child.” The Raven Queen nodded. “Our existence in the Astral Plane is a lonely one.” She reached out to take Istus’s hand across the table, entwining their fingers and giving it a squeeze. “All else fades to dust, yet Death is eternal. I understand your sentiment.” She paused, thinking silently for a few moments before her eyes lit up, glittering in the light as a thought struck her. “I have a… not a remedy.” She said slowly. “But something to… ease your burden. Perhaps lessen that loneliness. An assistant.”

Kravitz looked at the Raven Queen skeptically. While the paperwork for bounties could become overwhelming, he doubted having another Reaper would make him any less lonely. “I’m not sure…” he started before his goddess cut him off again.

“She’s not a Reaper, simply… undead.” She explained lightly. “She’s also one of the few of my Emissaries, yourself included, who is not intimidated by their goddess. She will have no concern for your status as the Grim Reaper.”

Slowly Kravitz nodded, thinking it over. He supposed it would be nice, having another person to interact with, even if they too were an immortal soul. It had been so long since Kravitz had interacted with other beings besides his goddess and the bounties and souls he hunted and collected. He tried to think of the last time he had interacted with another being, but everything turned up hazy and vague. Almost immediately his head started to pound again and he was forced to close his eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His mind cleared and the pounding faded away, leaving Kravitz once again confused.

He opened his eyes to find his goddess looking at him in concern. “Is everything okay, my child?”

Kravitz quickly nodded. “Yes, yes of course. Just a bit… dizzy is all. An assistant… an assistant sounds great.”

The Raven Queen smiled softly at that, though the concern didn’t leave her eyes. “Very good. You may go, Kravitz. We will have her move into your office by the end of the week.”

With another nod of acknowledgment, Kravitz stood to make his leave. After saying his goodbyes and paying his respects to the goddess of Death and the goddess of Fate the space around Kravitz _shifted_ and he once again found himself in his office. And again, he was alone.

* * *

The moment Kravitz was gone Istus turned to her wife with a hot glare, holding up her knitting in one hand. “Look at what you did!” she hissed, pointing to a section of knitting a few rows down from where she currently was. There, a black thread of yarn, which had been entwined with another, bright fuchsia strand, had been cleanly severed and was already starting to unravel. “All that work, all those bonds, and you destroyed them in an instant. How could you make him forget?"

“It won’t be forever.” The Raven Queen answered, refusing to look over at her wife. “He will remember, when the time is right and the danger has passed. When it’s needed.”

“You don’t know if that will ever happen.” Istus snapped, looking at the Raven Queen with glowing, reflective eyes. “ _I_ don’t know if he’ll ever be safe. I don’t know if this plane will ever be safe, saved from that thing that consumes all in its path. But I do know our chances of survival were much higher when he knew the elf. When he knew what was at stake!”

“He is _my_ Emissary!” the Raven Queen answered, voice echoing and crackling around the room as darkness pressed forward around their little table, her form seeming to stretch and grow into something monstrous, and all around them came the sound of flapping wings. “And I will not see him in pain! Not if I can put a stop to it.”

Istus chuckled, her hair starting to glow, warding off the darkness. “You have gone soft, my love.” She said, pulling another thread into existence in midair. She tilted her head to the side as she watched her work, knitting needles clacking, though the sound could barely be perceived over the sound of rushing wind, a flock of Ravens, and the crushing darkness. “Kravitz still has work to do… he may yet help save us all.” She murmured. Slowly the glow left her eyes and she looked around at the black smoke smothering the air around them. “Now stop the dramatics, dear.” She said, smiling at the Raven Queen, who’s feathers were still quite ruffled by the whole thing. “You know they do nothing to sway me.”

Slowly the darkness dissipated, the sound of ravens fading away into nothing, and the Raven Queen’s form shrank back down into her humanoid shape. “You are correct, of course. But surely you understand. If Taako was in such pain and you could take it away in an instant… wouldn’t you?”

Istus laughed softly, taking her wife’s hand. “He is not yet my Emissary. I do not yet know what is in store for him, now that he has found his path. But… yes. I would.” She paused, taking a breath as she looked down at her knitting, the tapestry of time, running her fingers over the colors. “If it comes again… if the Hunger comes for this plane… I do not know if we’ll be able to save this place again. We got lucky last time, the Hunger was small, barely formed. But now…”

“If it's been consuming planes since we escaped it, it may well be unstoppable.” The Raven Queen nodded with a soft sigh. She looked over at Istus, eyes sad. “You know as well as I do there’s nothing we can do. Our hands are tied.”

Istus nodded, starting up another row. “We have to trust they’ll stop it, somehow. Events are already in motion… we must let them run their course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Chapter Six: Interlude (Or, Kravitz meets some lesbians and makes a new friend)


	6. Interlude (Or, Kravitz meets some lesbians and makes a new friend)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kravitz meets his new assistant and makes a surprising new best friend. Pan does something naughty and Tres Horny Boys are nowhere to be found.

Kravitz sighed as he set down his quill, running a hand through his deadlocks and stretching out his back. Even in life after death there was just so much bloody _paperwork_.

From the doorway to his right Kravitz heard a giggle and he looked up to see his new assistant poking her head into his office with a grin. Kravitz used the word “assistant” loosely to describe Julia. While she did occasionally help him with the mountains of paperwork, reminded him to occasionally take breaks, and sometimes organized the office, she was definitely more of a… companion.

Although Kravitz had been skeptical of the idea at first, he could now definitely say that the Raven Queen’s judgement on Julia and him becoming fast friends was impeccable. Not once did the woman seem daunted by Kravitz’s rank amongst the Emissaries, nor did she treat him any differently because of it. And the woman never ceased to fascinate Kravitz.

When he was working through some particularly mundane paperwork, Kravitz would call Julia into his office and ask her about her life in the Material Plane, before her untimely death. Unlike Kravitz, who had been dead for so long he could hardly remember a time before his service to the Raven Queen, Julia had only been in the Astral Plane for a little over two years. Though she claimed she had no idea why the Raven Queen had taken her on as an Emissary, Kravitz could see almost immediately why.

Julia was strong willed and willing to fight for what she believed was right. In the end, that characteristic had led to her death. She had a good heart and strove for justice above all else. She was taken from the world far before her full potential could be known. Here in the Astral Plane she was a perfect candidate for an Emissary, even if she wouldn’t make a great Reaper. While Reapers helped ferry souls to the Astral Plane, it was Emissaries like Julia who took care of the souls in their afterlife. They made sure souls made it safely into the sea and that those who were afraid to go in had their fears assuaged.

Sometimes they even helped Kravitz and the other Reapers in the Stockade. When the imprisoned souls became restless, their wails growing so loud and jarring even Kravitz had trouble focusing, it only took one word from an Emissary like Julia to quiet them down. She got much better reception with the souls than the Reapers did, given that most remembered how their life had so suddenly ended and how they had ended up in the Stockade.

Now that Julia was also functioning as Kravitz’s assistant, she spent more time in the Stockade than by the sea of souls. Kravitz once asked if she was okay with that shift, or if she would prefer to perform her duties in the sea of souls again. To his surprise she had laughed at that, looking up into his eyes with such kindness and passion he had to take a step back. She had confessed that it had always hurt her heart to see some of the souls go into the sea. Some were just little children or had loved ones still in the Material Plane – it was unfair that they had to be here, facing their Death. The souls in the stockade, however, she understood had done wrong. So it hurt her less, being here among the souls of those who had willfully upset the balance between life and death. At least they deserved to be in this place.

“Need a break?” Julia asked, stepping into the office and clearing a couple stacks of paper from his desk so she could perch on the edge.

With another sigh Kravitz nodded, indicating that she would sit down even though she’d already helped herself to a seat. “Yeah.” He pushed some papers to the side so he could conjure a tea pot and two cups. “Cults are the worst. Too much paperwork and too much death. They’re also the lamest fighters. For once I’d like a challenge. Something that would really make me use my Reaper skills.”

“Careful what you wish for.” Julia laughed. “Any sacrifices with this one?” she asked curiously.

Kravitz shook his head. “Thank the Raven Queen, no. Those are the worst; way too messy. Don’t get me wrong, I love saving the sacrifice, but then you have to deal with them and what they saw and the memory wipe is very taxing. Gives me the worst soul ache ever. No, this one was attempting a ritual to summon a demon, but I stopped them before they could do any real damage.”

“You always do.” Julia smiled at him, taking the cup Kravitz offered up to her and blowing at the steaming tea lightly. “So… what’s been your wildest bounty lately? If I recall there was some confusion a little while back about one? I was busy dealing with the disappearance of those three souls that went missing: Jenkins, Magic Brian, and… the new guy. Can’t recall his name. Was only here for, like, a day. Then poof, just gone.” Kravitz nodded, remembering the time in which she was referring. It really was the strangest series of events. Never before had souls just gone missing from the Astral Plane. Clearly a form of Necromancy, but whoever summoned them back to the Material Plane must have been highly skilled since none of the Raven Queen’s Emissaries could find any sign of the breakout.

“Yes, the bounties in Goldcliff.” Kravitz started, waving his fingers so his book of bounties drifted over to him, flipping to the correct page. “Hurley and Sloan were their names. I suppose it would behoove me to start at the beginning, yes?”

Julia nodded, stifling a giggle. “Only you would still use the word ‘behoove’, Kravitz.” She laughed lightly, waving off Kravitz’s affronted look. “I’m just teasing, no offence was meant.” She took a sip of her tea, humming lightly at the taste and the warmth that it filled her with. It never ceased to amaze Julia that even in death she could feel and taste things. A perk of being chosen as an Emissary to the Raven Queen, she supposed. “Do go ahead, Kravitz. From the beginning. Paint me that good, good word picture.”

* * *

It was mid afternoon when Kravitz’s book that held the Raven Queen’s bounties glowed with the addition of a new job. He was once again in his office, finishing off a stack of forms for the Raven Queen, documenting the number of souls the lower Reapers were bringing in. Even in the afterlife the paperwork never ended. Glad for the distraction and a return to what he considered to be his actual job, Kravitz stood and stretched before going over to look through the book. He found the new names easily enough, scrawled across the page with a small line drawing of the pair beneath it.

As Kravitz studied the picture he frowned, running a skeletal finger over the lines. They almost looked… like trees? That couldn’t be right. He quickly turned to the paragraph under the sketch; a listing of their crimes. “For the crime of immortality, vesseled by the change into Dryads and aided by the use of a powerful relic, Herley and Sloane are sentenced to imprisonment in the Eternal Stockade. No warning will be given.” The frown stayed on Kravitz’s lips as he read through the short paragraph again. Dryads? Now that was a new one.

Without further ado, he tossed his Reaper’s cloak around his shoulder, enshrouding himself with the blackness of night, and took up his scythe. It was time to get back to business.

The rift he cut brought him out to the heart of Godcliff, right next to a small fountain that fed into a glistening pond. Though the place would have once been peaceful, as was the intent, the area now was strewn with wreckage, evidence of some calamity. Everywhere Kravitz looked he could see shriveled up vines, their severed thorns still oozing with a thick, tar like substance. Must be the remnants of whatever… powerful relic turned the two women into Dryads.

And there, as Kravitz looked to the other side of the pond, they were. Currently in the form of two entwining cherry blossom trees, the faces of the women were barely noticeable in the curve of the bark, unless one was looking for them. Kravitz was. Stepping forward, Kravitz waved a hand over the pond and hummed a single note. Almost immediately the surface of the pond froze, the ice forming almost all the way down to its bottom. More than thick enough for a conjured form to walk upon. He crossed over the pond to the tree and lightly reached out to touch it.

Almost immediately the branches of the trees bowed, creaking overhead. Slowly Kravitz watched as the trees unwound and shrank, shifting into the form of two women, though still rather tree-like in appearance.

“Hurley and Sloane?” Kravitz asked, waiting for the pair to nod before he continued. “For crimes against the Raven Queen due to your immortality as artificially made Dryads, you are hereby sentenced to imprisonment in the Eternal Stockade. I humbly request that you come with me quietly and do not prompt me to act with unnecessary… force.” At that Kravitz gestured with a hand and his scythe reappeared in it, blade gleaming in the slowly setting sun.

The Dryads exchanged a look and the taller one spoke, her words soft and slow, like the rustling of wind through tree leaves. “This… this was not our doing.” She explained. “We did not wish for this, it is only what happened. We were destroyed, body and soul, by the power I foolishly thought I could wield.” She glanced over at her partner, who gave a reassuring smile in return and took her hand with a light squeeze.

“He who watches over nature granted us this existence.” The shorter Dryad spoke up, looking up at Kravitz fiercely, undaunted by his scythe. She had faced down worse to save the woman she loved from destruction. She would face down much, much worse if it meant keeping Sloane by her side. “If you and your queen have quarrel with what we are, take it up with him. We did not ask for this, yet it was given.”

Kravitz frowned at that, slowly lowering his scythe. He had heard many excuses for Necromancy, but this… he who watches over nature? For a moment Kravitz just looked at the two Dryads as the wheels in his mind continued to spin before his eyes widened. Pan. They could only be talking about Pan. Only he could do something like this. After another moment of silence, in which the Dryads did not make any move to escape or any indication that this was in fact a trick, only looked at him, Kravitz sighed and lowered his scythe. “I… I believe there may have been an issue with our record keeping. I… I must go confer with my goddess with regards to the issue of your… immortality.”

The taller Dryad nodded and the pair stepped back, once more shifting back into the form of two entwined cherry blossom trees, their branches laden with flowers. “We will be here, Reaper.” Her voice echoed in Kravitz’s head, startling him. “We will wait.”

Immediately Kravitz ripped a portal back to the Astral Plane, mentally requesting an audience with his Queen. When he stepped out of the rift it was to set foot in her throne room. “My Queen.” He knelt in front of her throne and could almost feel her eye roll. No matter how many times she reminded him that that sort of formality was not required of him it just felt wrong for him not to show the giver of his life after death the deference and respect she deserved.

“You requested me, Kravitz?” the Raven Queen said, standing up from the throne and sweeping down the stairs from the dias to come to a stop before him.

Kravitz looked up to see her in her more humanoid form, this time with a pair of glossy feathered wings arching from her back. The dress she wore was a black void, accented by raven skulls in a dark, aged silver. “Yes, my lady.” He nodded, rising slowly to his feet. “There seems to have been an… error with the bounty I was collecting.”

The Raven Queen tilted her head to the side and gestured a hand. Kravitz’s book of bounties appeared in it and she started flipping through the pages. “An error you say? That should not be possible.” She stopped at a page and looked up at Kravitz. “Hurley and Sloane? The Dryads?” Kravitz nodded. “And what makes you think there was an error, my child? Are they not immortal?”

“Well yes, but-“

“And is not immortality a blatant disregard for the balance between life and death?”

“Yes, yes it is, but they-“

“Then _what_ makes you say that their names in this book is an error?” The Raven Queen’s voice had risen in volume at each question until it was a bellow that encompassed the whole chamber. In front of her Kravitz once again fell to his knees, trying not to cower in fear. In front of him he saw not the mother like figure he had come to know who have saved his soul from being devoured by an all-consuming hunger. Instead he saw that which lurks in ever mortal’s nightmares; the face of Death. Cold, cruel, and unyielding. “As my Emissary and the Grim Reaper I give you certain liberties, Kravitz.” The Raven Queen hissed, one taloned claw clacking against the floor as she took a step forward. “More liberties than most ever get. That does not mean you may question my judgement when it comes to the bounties you are sent to collect. Remember. I gave you this life, Kravitz McAllister. I can take it away.”

A cold chill ran up Kravitz’s spine and for a moment he felt the overwhelming need to breath, though he knew he had no need for air. He felt his heart shudder, though none existed in his chest. “It was Pan!” he heard himself shout, though it sounded faint and distant to his ears.

Almost immediately the crash of feelings stopped and Kravitz was once again as he always was. A construct around a soul. Not truly alive yet still existing. “What?” the Raven Queen asked, voice low and dangerous, though it had lost its echoing quality. All around them was still… silent. “What did you say?”

Kravitz let out a shuddering breath and slowly lifted his head to look at the Raven Queen. “Pan. It… it was Pan who made them immortal. He’s the one who made them Dryads. It wasn’t willful disregard for the balance of life and death.” He answered, fighting to keep his voice level.

Slowly the Raven Queen’s fury deflated and her looming shadow shrank until she was once again humanoid in appearance. “I see…” she trailed off, lifting a hand and splitting a tear in space and time. “Well then, we must go speak to these Dryads. And Pan. He will have to answer for what he’s done, but… I’m sure he had good reason.” With that she stepped through the rift and Kravitz hurried after her.

It took them back to the edge of the little pond in the heart of Goldcliff, watched over by the entwined cherry blossom tree. This time, as Kravitz and his queen approached, the Dryads were once again in their humanoid form. This time they weren’t alone.

Kravitz recognized the being almost right away. The hooves and wild mane of hair interspersed by foliage kind of gave it away, the Reaper couldn’t help thinking. Pan.

When they first ventured out from the Astral Plane once it was successfully knitted into this new Planar System, they had encountered quite a bit of confusion in the Celestial Plane. After all, this planar system had never had a Raven Queen, nor the Astral Plane. And though the beings in the Material Plane did not find anything amiss, those in the Celestial Plane were not so quick to forget the time before the Astral Plane existed in their system.

The main issue came with Istus’s arrival, for this planar system already had a goddess of Fate. In fact, it not only had one… it had three. Three sisters who together wove a tapestry of fate, snipping off the threads once a mortal’s time was up. The three sisters, however, had grown old and weary of their task of weaving together Fate’s story for those in the Material Plane. So it was with great relief and only minor dissention amongst the other gods, that the three sisters handed over their task to Istus, transmuting their tapestry of thread into a rich scarf of yarn, melding seamlessly with the one she had brought from their home plane. The only evidence of where they had come from could be seen in a slight branch in her knitting, where the threads that once would have continued on now were blackened and scraggly. The threads of that world would entwine no more. 

Kravitz had met the Pan on his home system only a handful of times, but he had seemed kind and understanding. The sort of god to look out for his flock and help them in their time of need. He looked after every plant, every animal in the material plane. Some would say his clerics were amongst the most devoted to their deity and the kindest. The Pan of this world, however, Kravitz had only met once and the meeting was not enough for him to get a good grasp on Pan’s character and demeanor. His opinion of the god, however, was already slipping. Few were willing to cross the Raven Queen, and fewer still would dare be in her presence afterward.

This Pan, however, stepped right up to the Raven Queen and gave her a short bow. “My Lady.” He said, voice low and gruff as he looked up at the Raven Queen. Kravitz couldn’t help the smug smile that tugged at the corners of his lips to see that she was a good several inches taller than the other man.

“Pan.” The Raven Queen nodded back, inclining her head slightly. “Mind explaining what’s going on?” she nodded her head at the Dryads that had stepped up besides Pan and gestured with a hand for Kravitz to come to her side. “My Emissary here tells me that you are the one who gave these two immortality, which as you should know goes against the balance of life and death that I strive to uphold.”

The man chuckled softly and nodded. “Yes, I did know that. You have made it clear that none in this Plane forget that.” He indicated the Dryads with a hand and conjured a sphere of green light with the other. From within the sphere a scene started to materialize and Pan gestured for the Raven Queen and Kravitx to come forward. “Perhaps after you see this you will understand my actions better.”

Kravitz leaned forwards to see into the sphere, his nonexistent breath catching as he watched the story that unfolded inside the glowing orb. It was a story of two women hopelessly in love struggling to make ends meet. It was a story of two thieves: one out of necessity, the other out of choice. It was the story of a pain so vast and a temptation so great there was no chance of saying no. No choice and possibility of resisting. Above all, it was the story of a love so strong and so true, a sacrifice so great, that it broke through the bonds of temptation and power, even as it destroyed the pair.

When the story came to a close and Pan was looking at them expectantly, Kravitz couldn’t focus on the god. He could only focus on what he had seen minutes ago and the throbbing pain in his very core as he tried to remember what it had been. An item of immense power, he was sure… but what? He couldn’t remember and as he tried the throbbing only became greater, all consuming. “What was that?” he whispered, voice choked and strained.

The Raven Queen placed a hand on Kravitz’s shoulder and slowly the pain eased until it was just a distant drumming in his ears. “An item of great power. No doubt destroyed and none of our concern.” She answered, shooting Pan a look as the man opened his mouth to answer Kravitz. “Now, Pan…” she trailed off, pinning him with an icy glare. “That was a lovely story, I’m sure, but what exactly does that have to do with you upsetting the balance I uphold and turning those two immortal?”

Pan seemed flustered with the question for a few moments, as if he had expected the Raven Queen to just turn around and leave him be after seeing what had happened play out. Not very likely. After a few moments he composed himself, running a hand through his scraggly hair. “Well… as I’m sure you saw, these two overcame immense power, sacrificing their beings to save hundreds of other people. As Sloane’s patron god, I thought it only right to save her and her lover the pain of nonexistence. The only way to do that was to make them what they now are.”

The Raven Queen frowned in confusion. “Nonexistance? What do you mean?” her frowned got deeper and above them the sky darkened, the wind picking up. “Surely you don’t mean…”

Pan nodded and Kravitz noticed his Queen’s wings itch up, the feathers ruffled. “Yes. That’s exactly what I mean. The forces they were dealing with, the forces that they stopped, would not have left their souls intact. There would have been nothing for your Reapers to return to the sea. Nothing to bring back to the Astral Plane.”

Slowly the Raven Queen nodded, though her posture was still guarded and on edge. Whatever unspoken message had passed between the two beings must have spooked her something bad. But what in the entire universe could spook Death itself?

“Very well.” She nodded again, firmer this time. She opened her hand and Kravitz’s book of bounties materialized in it, flipped open to the page baring Hurley and Sloane’s names. With another twirl of taloned fingers a quill appeared in the Raven Queen’s hand and with deft strokes she marked out the pair’s names. “Their bounties have been removed. Though their slight against the balance of life and death is not forgotten, it has been… overlooked in deference to you, Pan. Do not forget this act of kindness. It will not happen again. Should you try to instill immortality on any more mortals… I’m afraid I will have to step in. It would be unwise of you to do so.”

Pan, looking overly too amused for Kravitz’s comfort, nodded in understanding. “Of course, your grace. None of us are safe from Death. I promise if I have need to do this again, you will be the first to know.” With that final word a soft breeze smelling of spring flowed over them, making flower petals stir up from the ground and fall from the tree branches overhead. Within moments they filled the space in front of and around Pan and when they finally cleared the god was gone and the Dryads were once again trees, entwined in an eternal embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one was so short. To make up for it, the next chapter is over 14k words.
> 
> Up Next, Chapter 6: A Fated Meeting (Or, Merle loses an arm, Magnus eats a rock, and Taako falls in love)


End file.
